


Good Old-Fashioned Tailoring

by IHidMyFaceFromYouNoMore



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: But Also: Sexy Tailoring, Flirting, Humor, Julian Is A Disaster of a Human Being, Julian’s Foot Fetish Rears Its Ugly Head, M/M, Rated M for Sensuality, Rating might change if later chapters become Too Sensual if you know what I mean, Romance, Set after "Past Prologue", Sexual Tension, Tailoring
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:35:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24820939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IHidMyFaceFromYouNoMore/pseuds/IHidMyFaceFromYouNoMore
Summary: Julian wants to get a suit made by the station's tailor so he can get to know him better.But it's not everything Julian wants Garak to know about him just yet.
Relationships: Julian Bashir & Elim Garak, Julian Bashir/Elim Garak
Comments: 18
Kudos: 65





	1. Chapter 1

Julian desperately wanted to make up for his embarrassing behavior that first time he and Garak met. He had been nervous out of his mind at the Replimat, he recalled how everything seemed to get in his way as soon as Garak locked eyes with him. Even the plant on the table thwarted Julian in his effort to appear casual. He had to remedy it. And Julian _had_ to see Garak again. He just had to. 

Julian stepped into the tailor’s shop with a plan, the nervousness at bay for now. He wiped his shoes on the mat, but he wasn’t sure why, his shoes were always regulation clean. He expected to hear a noise, the sound of talking or any other sign of life, but he heard only the acoustically muffled silence that the softly decorated shop teemed with. 

Julian soon became distracted by the mannequins wearing the latest in fashion, making him wonder which ones he could pull off. There was a lively satin-y jumpsuit that caught his eye and gave him pause for a while. 

“Doctor!” 

Julian jumped in place without leaving the ground. Out of nowhere, in a light spot in the back of the shop, Garak had appeared and was fast approaching with that cordial body language a person in retail has. “How delighted I am to see you in my shop so soon again. I hope this time under more pleasant circumstances?” 

Julian was so thrown he didn’t know if he should have put his hand out to shake. Come to think of it, Julian didn’t get to shake Garak’s hand the first time they met. There was something strangely intimate about not shaking someone’s hand when meeting them. 

“Oh, yes, uh — see, I was thinking, wondering, if perhaps you could actually fit me for a suit sometime. I'm — I'm looking for some new formalwear, I hear there’s some Bajoran celebration coming up, so …" Julian made a nervous gesture as if dancing but regretted it immediately. 

Garak was unfazed, cool and collected. “Why, I think we can find something very stylish for you in no time.”   
Julian breathed an inner sigh of relief. “Oh, good. Suppose I come back later, I’m sure you’re busy right now —” Julian attempted to be polite but came off as standoffish and regretted his existence even more. 

“No, not at all, Doctor, I have just enough time for us to get started on it today. If you’d like, you can come and let me get your measurements for a start.” Garak walked towards his workbench and Julian felt obliged to follow. 

“Alright — I suppose I’ll undress and step into your scanner, so I'll just —” Julian gestured toward the changing room curtains, or at least what he assumed to be a changing room because of the heavy curtains. His last visit had been so hurried and adrenaline-infused during the whole Tahna Los debacle that he could hardly remember the shop’s interior. 

Garak’s eyes widened a little, only momentarily. He broke into one of those crocodilian smiles of his. “No need for that, Doctor. I won’t be scanning you: I'd prefer to measure you by hand. If you’ll come with me, please …” Garak led Julian with a featherlight touch to his shoulder toward the back of the shop. 

There was a secluded lounge, plush and with a private booth of sorts that Julian could tell the tailor took his tea-breaks in. There were tools hanging from an elegant toolbox on the wall from which Garak fished out a roll of something Julian wasn’t sure what was but had an inkling about. 

Garak sensed he was being watched. He glanced back up at Julian. “Have you ever seen a measuring tape, Doctor?” 

Julian smiled nervously. “No, I'm afraid I've only ever encountered scanners whenever I've gotten uniforms made and — such. Is it an … antique?” 

Garak unspooled it before Julian’s eyes, revealing a row of numbers. “I acquired it from a Terran, — sorry, human, — trader, some years ago. Ever since then, I’ve found that I prefer it. I do like a hands-on approach to tailoring and you won’t get that from a 3D scan.” 

Julian nodded, trying to appear interested to a normal degree. “So, what do I —” 

“Remove your shoes first. You may step onto this podium, please. Stand straight and still for me.” Garak gestured toward a podium only a few centimeters high that Julian nearly tripped over when he turned around to see it. 

Julian kicked off his boots, trying to place them delicately away in a corner, before positioning himself. He waited as Garak spoke into the room: “Computer, begin measurement file for Dr. Bashir, Julian.” The computer beeped a ‘yes’ in return. 

Garak returned to Julian with a polite smile. He laid the tape against the length of one shoulder to the other, holding one hand around Julian as he pulled the tape taut. But Garak then frowned a bit while making a thinking noise. 

“I could tell that the Starfleet regulation uniform had sown-in shoulder pads from a mile away, but these are more substantial up close than I thought. And right now, they’re a hindrance. Would you —?” Garak implied for Julian to unzip and he did without further ado. Garak pulled the jacket part of the uniform down far enough to get to the inner layer, the sleeveless lilac turtleneck, revealing Julian’s bare shoulders just enough to measure them. Julian wasn’t going to get flustered over this, he had decided. But he did notice the cool scales of Garak’s hands against his too-warm shoulders as Garak placed the tape over him again. 

Garak said the number aloud and the computer beeped in return. He took another measure around Julian’s neck, being careful not to tighten it. Though it was over in a second, Julian didn’t let the sensation end in his mind. Garak gestured for Julian to zip up again. Silently, Garak moved on to holding one shoulder again, running the tape over Julian’s arm to end up holding his wrist gently. The only words spoken were Garak recording the measurements to the computer program, and Julian assumed that he ought to stay quiet himself for the time being. 

After letting go to let Julian’s hand hang at its side again, Garak took Julian’s center front from the neck to the midriff, then around his bust, and his waist. Julian tried to think about wholesome thoughts, but having someone, —someone like Garak, — holding him around the waist with his tailor’s hands, ensuring that he’d gotten the right measurement with a meticulous attention to detail? Julian tried to make sure he was breathing like a normal person. 

Unfortunately for him, the next step was hips. Garak was ever so professional, only lingering long enough to record the number down to the second decimal. Garak then kneeled, and Julian tried not to glance at him too much as he held Julian’s hip and smoothed his hand over his leg all the way down to his ankle. He did the measuring around that ankle too, before looking up at Julian to get eye-contact with him, which wasn’t hard to get. “One more to go.” 

Garak placed the end of the tape in the inside of Julian’s leg, his thumb holding the end against his innermost thigh as he smoothed his hand downwards again, but this time it was infinitely worse for Julian — his composure was severely threatened. 

It was so unexpected, and terribly thrilling: a testament to the lack of touch in Julian’s life at the time being. He held it together, but he was sure Garak must have felt him twitch when the tailor first pressed his finger in the hollow of his thigh. Julian tried harder at being inconspicuous, trying to search the room with his eyes for a distraction. 

The last measuring lasted forever in his head, but Garak in the real world let go and uttered the number before ascending again to stand face-to-face with Julian. “That should do it. Now, what is your shoe size?” 

Julian was so dazed for a second that he didn’t remember his size, let alone if the order included shoes. “Uh, 44 and a half. Does this order include shoes, I don’t think we —” 

“Hm, see, I don’t believe that’s your true size. I've been suspecting for a while that you’ve been wearing the wrong shoes, Doctor. Would you allow me to lay my suspicions at rest?” Garak interjected but did so in such a gentle manner than Julian almost didn’t notice. 

Julian cleared his throat. “Sure, why not — what should I do?” He looked down at his feet. 

“If you’ll sit over there, please —” Garak pointed a hand to the booth’s seat, so Julian sat, facing the tailor still. 

Garak had to kneel again, and this is where the straw broke for Julian. Garak's lovely scaly hands took Julian by the heel to hold him up for an examination. Julian had had dreams like these. His feet were completely bare, he hadn’t put on socks that morning, but Julian was a little apprehensive that his feet weren’t so nice after a long shift at Sick Bay. He hadn’t exactly anticipated his naked feet to be closely examined that day. He hoped Garak tolerated them. The tape was a cool blessing against the bottom of Julian’s warm foot as Garak took in the measurement. 

“43 and half.” Garak’s words brought Julian back to the present situation. “You haven’t noticed that you’re wearing shoes too large for you, Doctor?” 

Julian’s mouth was screaming internally for water. “No, I swear I haven’t. I've been a 44 and a half since I turned 21. Or, so I thought …" _Why do I feel a bit guilty all of a sudden? It’s just Garak — just..._

“I must recommend a pairing to go with your new suit. Of course, they ought to match the color scheme, but I do believe I have a sample laying around somewhere —” Garak scratched his chin thoughtfully for a moment and disappeared around the corner for another moment. Julian shifted a bit in his seat, readjusting himself. 

Garak returned with a rectangular box, opening it up elegantly to reveal a beautiful pair of sturdy yet sophisticated shoes. “Matte black goes with almost any suit if you must have just one pair to fit with your wardrobe. They'll even go with your uniform, I should think.” Garak kneeled back down again and held one of the shoes up to turn around in the light. The fastening was undone, and Julian’s heel was securely in the palm of Garak’s hand once more, making Julian swallow dryness. Garak slotted Julian perfectly into the shoe, re-fastening it with care. His other hand slipped just a bit up Julian’s ankle to steady him. Julian twitched again. 

“Try a step, I think you’ll find a pleasant change.” Garak backed away enough to let Julian get on his feet again. He rolled his ankle around, flexed his toes, feeling how Garak was right. 

“You’re right. It _is_ better. I should have the other one on too, to balance it out.” Julian reached for the box. 

But Garak would have none of that. “Let me, Doctor.” 

And just like that, Julian didn’t need to be told anything else, and he sat back down. He let Garak embrace his other foot in his hands, hold his ankle just so, and secure the shoe carefully. Julian’s legs felt soft and warm when he got up to stand again. 

“They’re perfect, Garak. I'll take them too.” 

Garak got up and smiled, less crocodilian and more friendly this time. “Excellent. Now, will you come with me so we can find you a fabric to match, hm?” 

Julian left the shop sometime later with the shoes still on, his feet hot inside. He felt terribly dreamlike. He adjusted his uniform so that it hid his excited body better. He had to get home to his quarters and get settled. 


	2. Chapter 2

Only a week later, Garak comm’d Julian to come and see the mock-up of what would be the beginning of his suit. Julian had no idea how Garak got his information to comm him, but he was excited when he finished his shift and strode into the tailor’s shop. 

This time Garak wasn’t hidden, but standing in the front of the shop, adjusting a mannequin’s ascot. He greeted Julian in that way that always made him feel warmly welcome. Garak immediately took him out back and placed a bundle of fabric in his arms before gently shoving him into the changing room. A minute later, Garak returned to see Julian in the prototype. 

Julian looked at himself in the full-length mirror with some astonishment. Although it was a mock-up in a thin test-fabric, he could already tell that the finished suit would be fabulous. The trousers fit him even though they were only a prototype. “It’s remarkable how fast you work. I thought it’d take weeks.” 

“I suppose I possess a strong work ethic.” Garak tugged at the sleeves, one by one. He was standing directly behind Julian with his face peeking over his shoulder. 

Julian nodded in response. _All the mannequins up front have been changed since last I was here. He's swamped with work, but he gets mine done in a week. Is that eagerness? Or really just Garak’s method of work?_

Julian didn’t know if he should be flattered or frightened. “For a mock-up it’s surprisingly put-together.” 

“I take pride in my attention to detail at all times.” Garak reached around and straightened the collar. “What do you think of the length so far?” 

“It’s — fine. I, uh, don’t know. I don’t have many other things in my wardrobe to compare to, beside my uniform. I packed rather light when I left Earth.” 

“Hm.” Garak hummed, not clear if he was dissatisfied or just thinking. He stepped around Julian and kneeled in front of him while still looking in the mirror. Since last time, Julian had more or less come to know what to expect and braced himself for when Garak made such sudden moves that flustered him. 

“The pant leg is a little too loose around the knee, I will mend that.” He stuck a pin in each side ( _Where did those pins come from?_ ), “But the ankle length should be good for those shoes you’ve got.” Garak shot back up, then, while standing directly in front of him, face to face, placed his hands around Julian’s waist, looking at his midriff. “Is the waist comfortable, do you think? Not too tight, not too loose?” 

_God, he is just standing way too close. I can see every ridge in his face. Cardassians have an infamously sensitive sense of smell, he can probably sense my sweating from here._ “Eh, it’s alright — feels normal.” 

Garak didn’t let go just yet. “You sure? I wouldn’t want you to feel _un_ comfortable.” 

The tension was deafening. _If he lowers his hands, I might just implode._ “No. Comfortable is the right word.” 

Another beat later, Garak agreed with his eyes and removed his hands. He went back to invading Julian’s personal space by taking his wrists. “The sleeves on your regular uniform are far too long for you, they sag over your hands. Don't they get in the way when you work?” 

“Oh — I suppose they’re a little big. But they’re naturally long like that. It's only the Chief that has his rolled up all the time, so you can’t see their fit, but I'm sure —” 

“I recommend _this_ length for an elegant suit. You don’t want them to be in the way for the big celebration coming up.” 

Julian’s hands were practically held by Garak as he went on and on about those sleeves. Julian was thoroughly distracted. “Speaking of, uh, are you going? To the festival?” 

“I doubt it. Not exactly a place for a Cardassian, to be at a religious Bajoran gathering. I might sneak out for a Jumja stick at one point, but it’d have to be incognito.” He chuckled and Julian returned it. Julian wasn’t all-together sure if he was being serious. 

“That’s too bad. I hear from the Major that it’s going to be fun. If you do come along, you don’t have to —” Julian sensed that he was going to say something embarrassing, but he carried on, “you know, be alone there, I mean, I'll be there, so — that’s one person. You know?” 

Garak moved on from the sleeves to pick at a seam elsewhere. “I know.” He had a full second of eye contact with Julian. “What about the collar, how are you finding it?” 

“Uh, I actually quite like it. It's what I hoped for.”   
“Good. Good. We’ll stick to that for the final design, hm?” Garak moved away, walking over to a desk to tap something on a PADD in silence. Julian felt supremely awkward, unsure if he was supposed to be taking the garment off now or — 

“You can remove it again. We've got what we need for now. I suppose it’ll be ready for you in a week and a half.” 

Julian’s eyes widened a bit. “Oh? Great. Great. Then, you’ll see me — then.” He carefully removed the mock-up without tearing it. 

When Julian bid his goodbye and stalked away, he thanked the stars that Garak hadn’t fondled his feet this time. _Or else I would be in a much worse condition._ He couldn’t wait to get home and lock the door. 


	3. Chapter 3

Julian walked into the shop once again, like clockwork a week and a half later. He had his confident mask on, not that he was super convinced that it would fool someone like Garak. _He’s probably completely figured me out by now and waiting to be over and done with my order._ Julian’s occasional self-deprecating train of thought made an ugly appearance when he thought too long about this. But he kept the mask on, thinking it was better to have something on than nothing at all. 

Garak was standing by the changing room curtains as if he was waiting only for Julian, making Julian nervous that he might have been late. Garak had of course seen him from the moment he walked in, but only greeted him when he was within a few meters’ distance. “Doctor, good to see you arriving so promptly.” 

_Phew._ “And you too. I mean, like, good to see you too, obviously you’re just as much on time as I am — anyway,” Julian clapped his hands together, rubbing them to hide the sweat forming. “Am I going to be trying it on today, you think?” 

Garak made his most cordial smile, making sure to keep it on for Julian’s pleasure. He didn’t say anything when he stepped to the work bench and grabbed a bundle which he then presented to Julian. 

Julian could tell even before he had unrolled the suit that it was perfect. The fabric was soft, pliant and with a bit of shine, and the seams were so neat even up close. He was gaping with astonishment already. “Garak, it’s beautiful!” 

“It’s a good sign that you like it already — though if you’ll just enter the curtains here, you’ll see the full picture.” Garak’s hand gestured amiably to the heavy curtains of the dressing room half-circle. 

Julian quickly undressed in the veiled privacy of the dressing room. All the while removing everything but his socks and underwear, he started to think about how strange it was that a dressing room was both private and public. And then he had to squash that thought when it turned unwholesome. He slipped on the suit with ease, and once its sleeves were hugging his arms, he could already tell that he would be treasuring this outfit for the rest of his days. 

Julian had forgotten all time and place as he stood there, admiring himself in the mirror, mouth still a bit agape with disbelief. The curtain drew back out of nowhere and Garak emerged. 

Even he looked impressed. “My — it does look as good as I envisioned it.” He walked up to stand next to Julian, both of them looking at the suit via the mirror, distracted. “How’s the fit? Any tight spots?” 

Julian looked down at himself and shimmied a little. He turned to look Garak in the eye properly. “No, it’s perfect. And the fabric — oh,” Julian couldn’t stop feeling his sleeves, they were wonderfully tactile. “It’s perfect, really.” 

Garak looked very amused indeed. He studied Julian’s form both in the mirror and outside of it. He stopped in his tracks, noticing something. “You haven’t buttoned up the back?” 

“Oh — I guess I forgot. I'll just —” He contorted his arms to find the buttons, but a pair of hands took his wrists and held them. 

Garak was way too close again. “Allow me.” 

And Julian didn’t need to be told twice. His arms fell by his sides. Garak went to work, starting with the lowest buttons at the small of Julian’s back. He was meticulous as always, the focus in his eyes was exclusively dedicated to the buttoning. 

Julian couldn’t see Garak’s work, but he felt that sense of strange intimacy rising up in him as Garak’s fingers barely touched Julian through the thin fabric. It wasn’t a touch, but it was enough. Garak reached his nape and Julian had to suppress a tickling-like sensation. 

“There.” And so, Garak let go. 

“It’s still good, still not too tight. It fits just right.” Julian turned a little to see more. 

When they stood there like they were, Julian had an image of him and Garak going to the Bajoran celebration together. Garak was always dressed well so it wouldn’t be much of a stretch to imagine him dressed for a function at that moment. They made for one well-dressed couple. Julian squashed that thought too. 

“We should handle the payment now, shouldn’t we?” Julian looked at Garak. 

“Right — after you’ve changed back into your uniform, yes? I'm guessing you’re not going back to work in this.” 

“No, no — I think I'll be saving my grand entrance for the festival.” 

“Good. I'll ready a garment bag and a hanger for you when you’ve finished.” 

Garak was supposed to turn and head out the curtain again, so Julian waited for that. But the tailor decided to remain for a few moments more, watching the suit presumably. Julian didn’t want to say anything, even though it seemed strange. He watched Garak finally go through the curtains, floating over the carpeted floor and away with so much mysticism. 

Julian couldn’t stop thinking it. _He seems interested in me, right?_ _He wouldn’t hang back if he wasn’t, I suppose._ But he knew that getting his hopes up would get him nowhere. He took off the suit, despairing at having to keep it to himself until the coming Wednesday. It still looked good bundled in his hands. 

Putting his old clothes back on, Julian had his uniform around his ankles but he realized he couldn’t pull it up just yet. The lilac turtleneck hung on the hanger, so he reached for it first. 

Then the curtains were drawn back. 

“Doctor, I forgot to check —” Garak still had the curtain clutched in his hand when he stopped dead in his tracks. 

Julian could see everything Garak was doing behind him because of that full-length mirror in front of him. Julian could see how Garak froze, just like Julian was, — and how he _lingered_. Garak looked, eyes flicking up and down. His mouth had slackened, but it pulled upwards again and Garak shut the curtain slowly, hiding himself from Julian once again. “Excuse me.” He said behind the barrier with a not-embarrassed voice. 

Julian was still frozen. 

His head had stopped thinking. It was _that_ bad. All he could do was keep rolling the turtleneck up in a bunched-up hoop so that he could start putting it on. And then not think about Garak seeing him. And about Garak _lingering_. 

And about the underwear Julian had on. _Why did it have to be the old blue ones today? Today of all days?_

And about what Garak must have been thinking. If only Julian could find a way of knowing. _But do I really want to know?_

Eventually, Julian had to leave the veil. When he stepped out again, he was quieter, watching Garak. Garak, meanwhile, looked completely unaffected when handing him a hanger to place his new suit on. 

In silence, Julian put the suit carefully on the hanger, then covered it with the protective bag. When he turned to Garak again, the tailor was holding a PADD out for him. “Your signature and then we’ll be done, doctor.” 

Julian accepted and placed his thumb to the tablet to pay. It beeped positively and then it sunk in how it was now confirmed to be done. Julian felt like he ought to say something, a few words to commemorate the occasion. “Well — thank you so much. I'll be sure to cherish this suit for the foreseeable future.” 

Garak smiled like he always did. “A pleasure doing business with you, doctor. Do come back if you need anything else.” 

Julian walked out the door, feeling like the bundle was quite heavy on his arm. Something was telling him that he should have stayed for a while longer. 


	4. Chapter 4

Julian was buzzing with excitement from the festival, but he was glad to be in the quiet part of the Promenade again. His ears were kind of ringing and he was a little tired in his throat from all the chanting. 

And he couldn’t help himself; he had to at least walk by Garak’s, see if he was home. Julian was in that stage of having a crush where you can’t stand being apart from the person you’ve chosen to fixate upon. He thought it would get him more quickly past this stage if he indulged in the desire to bother Garak at any opportunity. 

As luck would have it, Julian immediately spotted Garak through the glass doors. He was sitting at his work bench, embroidering something. Julian floated through the doors, momentarily not caring if he was disturbing Garak’s work. 

“Garak, hi!” Julian walked all the way up to him, getting him to look up at him. “Sorry if I barged in — I saw the lights were on and I — well, I thought you could use some company. Maybe. Is it alright?” 

“Doctor, I see you’ve been celebrating.” Garak greeted him, getting up from his chair and laying his work aside. “Oh, your hair — may I?” He gestured with a hand hovering near Julian’s head. 

It was certainly unexpected, but Julian let him. Garak delicately plucked something from the side of Julian’s head. He held it up and showed it as they now stood face to face. “Confetti.” 

Julian grinned and took it from Garak’s fingers. “Oh! Don't know how that got there!” He laughed. 

“I take it you partook in the _s’humgh_ chant.” Garak smiled benevolently. 

“Oh, yeah — I wasn’t prepared, though. I didn’t know it went on for fourteen rounds, let alone that it involved confetti. And that spring wine — whoo!” Julian knew he was being a tad embarrassing. He was tipsy with confidence and far too honest. “Sad you weren’t there. It was fun. Next year you ought to join in —” Julian wasn’t so drunk that he had lost all sense of tone, though. “I mean, I — sorry, I know it’s not as easy as that. You, being Cardassian and everything, it’s, uh, I assume it’s not that — easy. Forget I said anything stupid.” _And there it is, the point of sobering up where you_ _instantly_ _lose_ _all_ _your confidence_ _in one fell swoop_ _. Had to happen at the right moment, didn’t it, Julian?_

Garak merely smiled. “I will. Would you care to join me for some tea, doctor? I think you could use a refresher.” 

And so they were in the backroom as per usual. Julian was sitting, feeling weirdly exposed, in the plush booth. The tea smelled delicious as Garak prepared it. 

Garak poured him a cup, slowly tipping it into the fine ceramic mug, before sitting down next to him. “You wear your new suit well.” 

“Hm? What did you say?” Julian was distracted. And he wasn’t sure if he had heard Garak right, it had sounded almost like a compliment which flustered him a bit. 

“I only said you look comfortable in your new suit. You seem to be at home in it.” 

“Oh — thanks. I love it already. It’s probably the nicest thing I own.” Julian adjusted the collar to do it justice. “I got lots of compliments on it earlier tonight. And I told everyone that complimented it that I got it made by you, so I suppose I advertised you well. Especially if you think it’s a good representation of your work, that’s — even better advertisement!” Julian had backed himself into a word-corner, so he stopped. 

But Garak chuckled in a friendly manner. “Yes, that is invaluable promotion of my work. I ought to thank you for that. Perhaps with a discount for your next tailored ensemble.” He had a sip of tea, smiling into the cup. 

Julian thought it was funny too. “Don’t joke about that, I just might hold you to it.” 

“Well, I'm sure we can talk business in the morning. It's never a good idea to talk business after one’s been to a party.” 

“Yeah, true, but — as tipsy as I am, I know for sure that I want something more. Maybe — new slacks? Or — you could, uh, you could take a look at some of my existing trousers, I feel like there’s something not quite … right about the cuffs.” Julian sipped the tea and tried to appear composed all the while talking foolishly. 

“You can bring them tomorrow, then.” Garak suggested. Then he patted Julian’s leg with his heavy palm that lingered afterwards. 

Julian couldn’t decide if it would be classified as more leg or thigh that Garak was so casually placing his hand onto. Worse yet, if it was — _implying_ what he was thinking it was. 

Not that it mattered. What mattered was every second Julian counted in his head in which Garak’s hand was on him while they maintained eye contact. They were racking up, way past the point of platonic interaction. 

_It's been_ _five_ _whole seconds now. And just from me thinking this, it’s been_ _ten_ _. And …_

Julian wanted to clear his throat, move the hand holding his teacup mid-air, literally do anything than what he was doing right now which was freeze up again, just like he had done in the changing room. _When is he going to say anything? Please sa—_

“Doctor?” 

“Hm?” Even Julian’s lips where frozen shut, he could only hum. 

“You have such a startled look about you right now — should I …?” Garak removed his hand cautiously. 

But Julian’s hand thawed and went over to lay on top of Garak’s. And they went back down onto Julian’s leg-thigh-area. 

“I feared you wouldn’t be — interested.” Garak had a new glimmer in his eye Julian hadn’t seen before: doubt. 

“Oh, I am. I am — interested.” 

The hum of the station engines was more noticeable than ever. 

Julian took a breath. “Hey — do you … want to have lunch with me on Tuesday? Or Thursday? I have long lunchbreaks on those days of the week.” _And then have lunch with me_ _regularly_ _for the rest of our stay on this station_ _? Preferably forever?_

Garak’s doubt evaporated. “Tuesday. In the Replimat?” 

“Sure.” 

“I’ll look forward to it.” 

**Author's Note:**

> this is yet another fic that came from me closely watching “Past Prologue” on a very slow day. I never noticed just how incredibly nervous and awkward and cute Julian is throughout the entire episode until now. 
> 
> if you would like to, please comment what you think ! I love to read comments and hear readers' thoughts, so that would be cool of you. <3


End file.
